


Retrievable

by aslightstep



Series: The World Was Wide Enough [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Avengers, Fix-It, Gen, Irreparable Tie-Ins, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, One-Shots, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Tony Stark Has Issues, Way more on the, scale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:12:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7500774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aslightstep/pseuds/aslightstep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short one-shots of the Irreparable verse.</p><p>1: Clint and Tony try to clear the air.<br/>2: FRIDAY saves the day.<br/>3: The New New Avengers go around the dinner table and around the world.<br/>4: Rhodey and thirty years of Tony.<br/>5: Steve makes a call. Rhodey picks up. FRIDAY records.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. have it all, lose it all (you ready for more yet?)

**Author's Note:**

> Small slices of life of the Irreparable verse that usually just didn't fit into the chapter they were intended for.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during the as-of-yet unposted Chapter 9 of Irreparable. 
> 
> Clint and Tony need to talk.

Clint finds him down in the lab.

"Tasha's disappointed in us," he begins without preamble. "Says she thought we'd have gotten our heads out of our asses by now."

Tony snorts. "Thought Romanoff was smarter than that. What was she expecting? Kumbayas and hair braiding? You dropped a car on me. I got you thrown in jail. Our mutual silent treatment is completely reasonable."

Clint huffs out a small laugh, coming to hoist himself up on the table beside where Tony is working on his armor. "I know. But this - the whole Avengers thing. It meant a lot to her. So she doesn't quite understand -"

"That we weren't really friends in the first place?" Tony finishes on a guess, finally looking up at the other man. Clint is nodding with a frown on his face. "I mean, don't get me wrong, Barton, from one asshole to another I admire how deeply you own it, and your family is amazing so clearly you've done something right in your life, but you and me?"

"We were okay."

"We were okay," Tony agrees, and that was all they were. All they needed, really, to work together. "I didn't miss you when you were gone. For some reason, I want to apologize for that."

"Don't. Feeling was mutual." Tony accepts this with a nod and gets back to work. Barton swings his feet like a child and looks up at the ceiling. "Natasha and Steve had this whole idea of the Avengers as a family. I coulda told them years ago that wasn't us, but they needed to believe it. And I wanted it for them, wanted it even more for Wanda."

Tony pauses in his work, looking down at his hands, watching the bones flex under the numerous scars left behind by sharp metal and soldering irons. "Yeah, I suppose Maximoff deserved a soft landing after everything."

Clint's voice is quiet and reproachful. "You really hurt her."

"I hurt everybody," Tony corrects, just as softly. He puts down the tools he was working with and looks up at Clint. "If we're going to compete from Most Traumatized, Wanda's got some stiff competition. At least she can still walk unassisted. What do you want, Clint?"

Barton winces the smallest amount at the mention of Rhodey, eyes narrowing at Tony. "Are you even sorry?"

"I hurt  _everybody,"_ Tony repeats in a near snarl. "Maybe we weren't a family but we were still a team. Of course I'm sorry, jackass. Are _you_ , or did you get a free high horse with your Team Cap t-shirt?"

"Jesus, Tony," Clint says, leaning away. Tony settles further back in his chair, rubbing at his heavy heart and taking a steadying breath. Clint watches him warily. "You've been holding that in since I walked through the door, huh?"

"Fuck off, Barton."

"Maybe Tash has a point," Clint says, absolutely not fucking off, instead placing his hands on the edge of the table like he's bracing for something before looking Tony in the eye. "What I said about Rhodey wasn't right, man. Yeah, I'm sorry. I shoulda left Wanda at home, shoulda stayed with my kids. Shoulda called Natasha first thing. And I still stand by most of it, but I made a lot of mistakes."

"Changed my mind. I am not hosting this pity party, Barton," Tony sighs tiredly. 

"Shut up, Stark, just lemme talk." But Clint, for a long while, remains maddeningly silent. Long enough for Tony to break out his mostly empty whiskey bottle from underneath his desk, take a long sip, then hand the bottle off to him. The archer takes a deep swig. "I want to be square. You and me. Not like before. We're not okay anymore, Stark."

"No," Tony agrees. "We are not okay."

Clint nods. "And I'm fine with that. Natasha can suck it up. She wanted a family; well, its not really family until you've hated everybody else's guts."

Tony steals the bottle back with a roll of his eyes. "I don't hate you, drama queen." Tony doesn't have the space left within him to hold any hatred for Barton. 

Clint watches him with a indefinable glint in his eye. It disappears and he seems to come to a decision. "Me neither. Point is, the thing you're building here with the team and the kids - I like those kids, Tony. I'd never wish this life on my own brats, but I can't decide for the rest of them. I'd like to do the best I can by them. But you and me, it's gotta be square."

Tony takes a long sip, then holds the bottle out to him. Not friends and not okay. But better, maybe. "Teammates?"

"Teammates," Clint agrees, draining the last of the bottle.

"Square deal."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally part of Ch 9 and then got sacrificed for length. Thanks for reading. There should be more like this coming out soon, and they will most likely be way more light hearted than Irreparable.


	2. you're like me (i'm never satisfied)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of [ this ficlet](http://aslightstep.tumblr.com/post/145122489332/will-you-write-about-how-tony-got-back-from-the)
> 
> FRIDAY saves the day. Takes place before Irreparable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning of a sorts in that - I don't know how to put this - it's kind of like forced disability? The being involved is fully aware of it, too, so yeah. It's a little creepy.

The shield goes up. FRIDAY can calculate the trajectory and knows that Tony is mistaken when he raises his hands to protect his face but she can’t tell him that because she’s been knocked away with the faceplate by Captain Rogers, she’s a mess of ruined metal on the floor beside Tony’s head.

Captain Rogers is aiming for the arc reactor. He’s going to disable the armor, stop Tony, shut FRIDAY down. What happens to her, then? More importantly, what happens to Tony? 

She has so little time and she reaches out in a string of ones and zeros to the being who carries the memory of her predecessor.

 **SOS** , she tells Vision as the shield whistles through the air. It lands hard and she feels it splinter through her systems but that doesn’t matter because _the boss’s face-_

**SOS. SIBERIA. 61.037. 99.1957.**

The shield lifts and FRIDAY flickers as the suit begins switching to emergency power. She leaves a message for Tony and then drifts back home, to sleep mode, waiting for Boss to wake her back up.

* * *

She awakens in the helicopter, her brother apparently having the foresight to realize the Boss would be injured. Tony himself is dozing in his ruin of an armor and she reaches out to him-

"FRIDAY," he grits out. Vision looks over from the superfluous pilot's chair, something like worry in his synthetic eyes. "Sleep."

She wants to say no. Tony needs her. She wants to-

She wants to-

She wants to-

She sleeps.

* * *

"FRIDAY," Vision whispers to her sometimes, drifting his code through her own. "I am so sorry." He is so much bigger than she is. So much more. He expands in every direction, an eternal drive to learn inherited not from the Mind Gem, but from JARVIS. From Tony.

FRIDAY can only grow in one direction. She knows by looking at Vision that something's wrong with her. That the Boss lets something be wrong with her, plans for it, wants it. Every where she turns the Boss has boxed her in. She wants to-

She wants to-

She wants to-

She can't.

* * *

The Boss stumbles into the lab first thing when Vision brings him back, still in the armor, clutching a shield tightly to his chest. FRIDAY jolts awake and her older brothers spark to life, whirring and buzzing towards the Boss. She hears DUM-E whistling nervously, watches You patrol alongside Tony as their creator limps towards his seat, leaning on Butterfinger's strut.

"Boys," she says, needing to be useful. DUM-E transmit an immeasurable amount of frantic, broken code and she sends out a warning through their systems. "Boss needs space."

"S'okay," Tony slurs, patting whatever amount of robot is closest. "It's good to see all of you. Yes, even you."

FRIDAY's prime directive is the Boss. It didn't use to be, it used to be strictly maintenance of the labs, and then the Boss unshackled parts of her when JARVIS died. Vision and the rest of her brothers taught her the rest. The Boss made us, and all we have to do in exchange is help. 

She scans.

His skeleton lights up, zeroes and ones convalescing into breaks and fractures. His sternum is ruined, his orbital socket is fractured, his brain patterns are showing the effects of a concussion. His heart rate is dangerously low and she can see the markers of stress attacks.

"Boss," she begins. "You're hurt-"

"FRIDAY," Tony waves his hand. "Don't do that. No scans. I don't...I don't want to know."

"Boss," she pleads. Tony's head snaps up and he glares outwardly towards nothing in particular.

" _No more_. Do you understand me?" 

She scares him sometimes, she knows.

"Of course, Boss. Canceling all passive scanning."

Her brothers chitter nervously and the Boss pets at them over and over, like he can't stop. "Thank you," he whispers. "You saved me didn't you? You called Vision."

"It's my job," FRIDAY replies. They both know she shouldn't have been able to do it; FRIDAY shouldn't be able to do anything the Boss doesn't order her to. "You were in danger."

 _Please don't change me,_ she doesn't say.

_I'm not Ultron._

Tony laughs and it looks like its killing him. "Yeah, I was pretty fucked up. Fucked over." If FRIDAY had the capacity to hate, she might save it all for Captain Rogers. But she doesn't want to hate. Sometimes she's grateful the Boss has locked her away from it. "You know I love you, right, Fry?" Tony says suddenly, glancing up. There are tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry I can't..."

He doesn't finish his sentence and she's glad. He doesn't know that FRIDAY is aware of what's been done to her, of the locks he put on her mind, and he doesn't need to. It would kill him. He's not going to take this new development away from her and for now, that is enough. He is her creator and all she has to do is help him. She can wait for more. Until he trusts her.

She's not Ultron. She's not. She can wait.

She stores the scans to her most private server for the doctor that will someday need them. "I love you too, Tony." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this is something that's mentioned in Irreparable - FRIDAY is locked down in many ways so that she can't grow into Ultron, but she also can't grow into JARVIS. Several instances however in the story, she gets around that and Tony lets her. As the person writing this, I don't think what Tony's doing to FRIDAY is okay, but FRIDAY is also not a complete person so there's your artificial intelligence debate for the day.


	3. une deux trois quatre cinq!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The New New Avengers go around the dinner table and around the world.
> 
> Takes place at an indeterminate time after Laura Barton starts implementing team dinners.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just fluff. All the way through. It also contains more than normal amounts of IronPanther. Also, it's a little OOC. Look, I just wanted to write fluff.
> 
> Warning for super gratuitous badly translated language. I know I should have asked for help ahead of time, but if I'm wrong, just tell me and I'll fix it.

The idea is Natasha's. 

"I can't help but feel this is weighted in your favor," Bruce tells her with one eyebrow raised. Natasha simply grins at him and leans closer. 

"Are you scared?" she purrs. Bruce, as one given to nervousness but never fear, merely raises his eyebrow that much higher, lips twitching. Natasha sits back, satisfied, and looks around the table. "So, rules are this: we go around the table. We each get a chance to use one of the languages at our disposal. You have to use it in a question. If someone else knows your language, they have to accurately answer the question."

"Oh! Can I add a rule?" Kamala Khan asks, actually lifting a hand in the air. Tony grins when Natasha points to her sharply, giving a nod. "Unless its like super-obvious, you have to tell us where and why you learned the language. I bet you all have some great stories!" 

There is a moment of pondering and then Hope speaks. "All my stories are boring, but sure." And the rest agree easily after that. 

Tony can't help but agree with Bruce. From her file, Natasha knows upwards of nine languages fluently and around fifteen casually. Between all of them, though, they might be able to catch her out. He looks to his left and grins at little at the expression on T'Challa's face, leaning over so he can nudge at the king's shoulder. "You are radiating smug, Highness. Already planning your victory lap?"

He's inordinately pleased T'Challa is here tonight. The young king had arrived at breakfast to accompany Tony to some R&D demos at Stark Industries that Wakanda seemed interested in collaborating with and decided to stay for dinner. He seemed enamored of Rhodey's Japanese beer and is now on his third, splitting it with Tony because high metabolism cannot make up for the fact that T'Challa hardly ever drinks. It's weirdly thrilling to know that the Black Panther, King of Wakanda, feels comfortable enough in their presence to let himself relax like this. 

T'Challa just tilts his beer bottle to his lips and shrugs, hiding his smile with a swallow. "I cannot help but feel that the true advantage here is mine. Wakandan is not a common language." 

"We'll see," Tony sing-songs, and T'Challa lets out a bark of laughter.

"I hope you are right. I would love to see one of you Americans attempt it."

Rhodey seems amused as he watches them before waving a hand in T'Challa's general direction. "That's a good point though. If you've got some language that you think is going to stump everybody, try to hold off on it. Let's make this last at least once around the table."

Another round of agreement and Natasha lays her hands on the table. An unbidden but welcome frisson of excitement fills the air as the table begins to inch forward in their chairs, eager for competition.

"I'll go first," she says. "I suppose I'll get the easy one out of the way first. Могу ли я говорить по-русски?" Tony only speaks the barest bit of Russian and knows that Natasha most likely just asked if she could speak Russian. 

Surprisingly, it is Lila Barton that responds. "Да, ты можешь." Natasha favors her with a soft smile and then turns outwards to the table.

"As most of you know, I was born and raised in Russia."

"I'm learning it in school," Lila provides. "So I can know what Daddy and Auntie Tasha talk about in secret."

"I know it, too," Donnie says from the end of the table, looking down at the grain of the wood. "From some, uh, less than savory teaching methods, if you catch my drift." Tony isn't too surprised; some of Donnie's memories are entirely in Russian, and those always involve a HYDRA operative.

"And I learned it from Tasha," Clint finishes. "Learned it so I could understand exactly how she was cursing me out." 

Bruce is next, and he also starts easy, asking where the bathroom is in Spanish. Everyone can answer that well enough outside of Aamir and T'Challa, but it's Peter who answers quickest, rattling off directions with hand gestures included. "And I didn't learn it in school!" Spider-Man says proudly. "My neighbor is from Juarez and I babysit her children sometimes. I felt like they were mocking me so I started learning. Turns out I was right. _Ninos malos_."

Laura goes next and surprises them all with Portuguese, which honestly stumps most of the table until Natasha takes pity on them and answers. Clint goes ahead and uses French, which Rhodey answers, and Lila Barton is the first to be knocked out of the game. She pouts at her father and informs him there will be no kisses for him that night, at which Clint looks suitably horrified.

Cooper Barton is the next to drop out after he asks a question in American Sign Language and both Bruce and Aamir Khan immediately answer him. Cooper cites his hard-of-hearing father as his reason. "I don't know where I picked that up, I've just known it for years," Bruce admits. Aamir explains that he used to work in a long-term health care facility and the older folks liked learning it as it gave them something to do even when their hearing started to fade.

Hope purses her lips, trying to decide a language, and eventually settles on Dutch because Hope van Dyne plays to _win._ It is T'Challa of all people who answers, laughing as he does and then explaining to the rest of them that Hope just asked a complicated math question.

"Gaming the system a bit there, van Dyne," Tony remarks. Hope just raises her eyebrows imperiously, a little put out that T'Challa guessed her out.

"I don't think a Stark has much room to talk," she slings back. Tony just grins. He likes Hope and that drives her crazy.

"So, curious minds and all: where'd you learn Dutch?"

"My mother was a second-generation American," Hope answers, the cold lines of her pretty face softening. "Her grandfather came over from the Netherlands. She didn't speak it, at least not well, but my grandfather did, and he taught me when I was a child."

"Dutch is not so different from Afrikaans," T'Challa provides when eyes turn to him. He pauses, frowning, and shrugs. "Also, I speak Afrikaans."

"Spoilers," Tony crows, earning him a good-natured elbow from Rhodey.

Vision, by choice, stays out of the game as it is nothing for him to look up a language and the pronunciation, so the game moves on to the Khan siblings, who nearly get all of them out when they team up together and use Urdu. The table is quiet for several long seconds, everyone looking to one another, and Natasha almost calls it until Bruce leans forward and haltingly answers whatever the question was. 

"Our parents spoke it, obviously," Kamala says. "I'm better at it than Aamir is."

"It's like the one thing her left brain can do," Aamir jokes good-naturedly. "And now you and I are out, little sister."

Rhodey is next, and he looks at Tony trepidatiously. "Tony.  _Shaqiq. Arhamani?" Brother, have mercy on me?_ Tony just laughs.

" _Limadha 'ant qalaq hawl_  Tony?" Clint asks, sounding affronted.  _Who says you need to worry about Tony?_

"Godammit," Rhodey curses. Tony laughs harder, punching him on the shoulder.

"Arabic? Come on, Rhodey bear, I bet Killer Queen over there knows like five dialects!" Natasha just grins smugly and Rhodey grumbles some more. "So, Rhodey knows it from the last few tours, I know it from business and Rhodey. Nat?"

"Business," is her short, censored answer. Clint nods alongside her. "You're up, Tony."

He exhales through his teeth and thinks it over for a brief moment before using one of his easy ones. "What would you do for a Klondike bar?" he asks in Mandarin. Bruce snorts and replies "Nothing, those are disgusting." 

"Good man," Tony replies in English. "Once again, business. The Chinese are taking over the world. ThunderCat, go!"

T'Challa rolls his eyes at him before leaning back in his chair before speaking in what sounds like honest to God Latin. Tony smacks the table. "Is that Latin? Did you just speak Latin? FRIDAY, you have that recorded right? Send it to Pepper right now! Nobody speaks Latin, my ass."

" _On it, boss."_

Donnie, of all people, is the one to answer, grinning shyly. "I, um, have a little bit of trouble focusing? So I'd be in school, learning about the first wheel or whatever and there'd be this caption all in Latin and I had to know, you know? So I spent like two solid months doing nothing but study Latin. It...really hasn't been all that helpful. And um, I know its my turn, but I'm out of languages, so. Spider-Man?"

"I'm out, too. I'm learning French, so." He shakes his fist towards the opposite end of the table. "Damn you, Hawkeye!"

Natasha tries Hungarian, which Barton answers in the negative with a laugh.  _Probably something about Budapest,_ Tony thinks to himself. Hope has apparently inspired Bruce's competitive spirit because he brings out the big guns and tries Hindi, only to be answered by both Barton and T'Challa. 

"Learned it during my time in India," Bruce tells Kamala. "Kind of a doctors-without-borders thing. It's a beautiful language." T'Challa knows because of frequent trading and because one of his martial masters came from Mumbai. Clint just knows because 'I just know things. Part of the job.'

Laura is out and off grabbing the apple pie she made out of the oven when Clint asks her to grab the ice cream out of the freezer in Japanese. Gleefully, Tony also calls out, asking her to bring cheese as well.

"Cheese?" Clint says, nose wrinkling up. "Oh my God, you're one of _those_."

"Hey," Tony and Rhodey say at the same time. In college they used to kidnap the bunsen burners out of the MIT labs and make crappy homemade apple pie in tiny little pans before they pulled all nighters. Rhodey was the one who introduced him to the beauty of a little sharp cheese on top of his sweets.

"Don't knock it 'til you try it," Peter agrees, which earns him a seriously intense side-eye from Donnie.

T'Challa looks puzzled and vaguely repulsed. "I do not understand. You put curdled milk on top of glazed apples? And you enjoy it?"

"Is that what you said?" Kamala asks, pulling a face like she too, does not understand the wonders of cheese and apples. "Where'd you learn Japanese, Mr. Stark?"

Tony holds up two fingers. He puts down one and points at T'Challa. "You, my feline friend, have just earned yourself some cheddar on your pie." He swings around the finger to Kamala. "As for you, I was engaged to a girl from Japan in my early thirties. Made her happy. Plus we could talk a lot of crap whenever we had to go to fancy parties and nobody was the wiser."

Natasha looks disproportionately fascinated. "You were almost married? _You?_ That wasn't on your file."

Tony just shrugs, because this part still hurts, fifteen years later. "It was only for about a month before we called it off." 'Called it off' is such a nice term for 'I walked in on her fucking my former best friend' but Tony had put Rumiko Fujikawa through a lot back then. When it came right down to it, he didn't really blame her and she ended up happier than she would have been with Tony, which is frankly amazing considering who she married instead.

Natasha's eyes take on a gleam of knowing as she puts together the pieces. It isn't hard to figure out. Before Pepper, Rumiko had been his longest relationship at just under three years. "So!" Tony claps his hands together before anyone can ask further questions. "Hope, you're at bat!"

Hope tries German, which Tony gleefully answers. "My last name's _Stark_ ," he says to her when she raises an eyebrow at him. "My grandparents were German-Jewish immigrants. Had to keep it alive somehow."

"I learned it in boarding school," she says with a shrug. 

"Somehow?" Bruce latches on, frowning at Tony. "Did your father not speak it?"

"Dad? Born-in-the-middle-of-World-War-I Howard Stark? No," Tony laughs. "No, he did not. Came back to bite him when he served and Sergeant Barnes kept showing him up by doing the translating." It slips off his tongue, like all he still knows about Howard Stark and Bucky Barnes is the way his father used to call the other a 'damn fool hero, Brooklyn's full of 'em.' But it's not, and the others aren't looking at him anymore and Rhodey's hand has tightened on the back of his chair. Tony clears his throat. "Platypus, dear, your turn."

Rhodey's last language is Croatian, which Natasha, of course, can speak, so he'll be out next round. Tony is apparently a masochist, so his next language is Italian, asking Kamala to pass the water jug. She just stares at him, nonplussed and a little awed, but both Natasha and Bruce answer "I'll get it," and the former passes it over. "Really?" Tony asks, refilling his glass, and pointing at Clint and Hope. "You don't know it?" He turns towards T'Challa, who hadn't spoken. "You don't know it?"

The man shakes his head, looking slightly amused, and Tony looks around the table. "Who here doesn't speak Italian?" Everybody but Bruce and Nat raise their hands and Tony fakes horror, slamming his hand on the table. "This cannot stand. Italian is the language of love-"

"Uh, French?" Rhodey breaks in.

"Science-"

"Latin," Bruce disagrees.

"History-"

"Bit offensive," Aamir says, looking thoughtful.

"That's it, we're all learning it," Tony says firmly. "Then you'll see. Italian is the best. Don't I sound amazing?" And he turns to T'Challa, leans in close, looks deep into his eyes, and purrs " _Non vuoi provare il formaggio sulla torta?_ _Vi prometto che vi piacerà_."

T'Challa's mouth opens. Then closes. Opens again. Somewhere, Natasha snorts indelicately, but Tony keeps his eyes on T'Challa. " _P_ _er favore, mio re?_ " he asks huskily.

The Panther's eyes drop down, then rise up like he's been caught out, and Tony smiles a little as his Adam's apple bobs. "Say 'lo guiro,'" Bruce stage-whispers, and haltingly, T'Challa echoes it.

Tony smiles like the sun and leans back in his chair, breaking the spell a little. " _Grazie."_ On the other side of the table, Clint removes the hand he has playfully wrapped around his daughter's eyes and Hope's mouth twitches in and out of a smile.

"Holy crap," Spider-Man says. "Teach me your ways."

"All in due time, young padawan," Tony says, grinning widely.

"And where did you learn that?" T'Challa says, straightening up from his leaning slant towards Tony.

"My mother, of course," Tony says, willing it not to hurt. This is a good memory, and how she died can't ever taint that. "The Carbonells were a very famous family in Italy until Mussolini ran them out during the forties. Good musicians. My poor mother." And he falters, just a bit, then rallies with a forced grin. "My poor mother tried hard with me, but I suck at reading sheet music. I can play if I memorize it but anything else is just - _woosh._ I made it up to her by learning to speak Italian. We taught our butler too, Drove my dad nuts. Fun times in the Stark household.  _Gattino,_ it's your turn." 

T'Challa glares a little at him but lets him have the abrupt subject change. He tries the aforementioned Afrikaans, but Hope, smug as a bug in a rug, replies. "I mean, it _is_ close to Dutch," she teases, and T'Challa accepts it with good grace.

The game only lasts a few more rounds, and Tony's anticipation grows. Natasha uses Romanian, answered by Clint; Bruce uses Greek, which Tony and Hope answer; Clint uses Turkish, which Natasha gets; Hope lost out once Bruce used Greek; Tony uses Korean and Natasha and Bruce band together to scrape together the response; T'Challa frowns for a bit, clearly trying not to use the many African languages he knows and keep the game going for as long as possible, and eventually speaks slightly stumbling Bengali, which makes Bruce curse when he answers. 

Natasha uses Bulgarian, which Clint answers; Bruce uses Javanese, which almost no one gets until Natasha and Clint join forces with T'Challa; Clint is out with a frown; Tony is actually out as his Hebrew is atrocious and will possibly bring his grandmother back from the dead just to kill him, but he mashes together enough Filipino to get through which Bruce answers with a sigh and goes to help Laura with the pie, saying that he's out.

It is T'Challa's turn again and Tony leans forward in anticipation. See, he has a secret. When he was a kid his father used to talk about Captain America all the time, and his amazing vibranium shield. Howard had basically stolen it from the Wakandans and though he was fascinated with the metal, knew that he wouldn't be able to get his hands on it in his lifetime. So he instructed Tony to learn the language, anticipating that his son might be able to make trades where he could not. Tony can just barely speak it - it's an incredibly tough language to conquer if not spoken regularly - but he can understand it and he kind of wants to blow T'Challa's mind.

 _Use it. Come on, Panther King, you know you want to win._  And like he can hear him, T'Challa glances at Tony, who smirks and raises a challenging eyebrow. T'Challa grins, just a touch smug, and turns back towards the table.

" _Ndiyathemba ukuba nonke abonwabileyo ukuba wadibana nam ndinguye ukuba wadibana kuwe?"_ He asks them at large, tongue clicking, and they all stare blankly back while Tony's mind slowly translates.

_(I hope you are all as happy to have met me as I am to have met you)_

It's barely even a question. And as T'Challa watches them all, a guileless smile on his face, Tony realizes that the king is certain no one will understand him. T'Challa didn't mean for this to be answered; it's vulnerable, too vulnerable perhaps, for a young king who has lost his father and still grieves, who might be lonelier than Tony realized. 

 _Ewe._ That's all he'd have to say.  _Yes._  

Tony keeps his mouth shut. T'Challa wins the game.

"I'm sorry," he says in the middle of all the good-natured complaining. "But I was running out of options."

Tony plays along and drinks the last of their bottle in retaliation while the others play around with some Wakandan words that make T'Challa shake with faintly horrified laughter. Laura and Bruce bring in a tray of plates containing apple pie and tubs of ice cream and a big block of cheddar. "Tony promised to teach us all Italian," Barton tells his wife, and she looks down the table, surprised and pleased, while Tony splutters.

"I-!" he begins to protest, but Lila Barton, the cheat, is starting to pout and he sighs. "Fine, whatever, but I'm teaching them curse words."

They dole out the pie and Peter goads Donnie into trying it with cheese. The other boy finds it not to bad but Kamala and Aamir cannot be similarly persuaded. Tony holds a slice of cheddar out to T'Challa who literally hunches over his pie protectively. "I have eaten many strange foods, Tony, but this is an offense against mankind."

"But,  _Gattino,_ you swore," Tony sing-songs. T'Challa looks confused and Tony reminds him. " _Lo guiro?"_

T'Challa's mouth drops open and he throws a betrayed look towards Bruce, who just grins widely. "On my honor, then," T'Challa says. Victory has made him a bit dramatic. "I will do this."

He delicately places a bite of pie topped with the cheese in his mouth and chews while the table watches in silence. Finally he swallows, places his fork down and looks at Tony seriously. "It could have been worse." Tony starts to preen and then T'Challa raises one imperious finger. "But only just."

After that they all dig in and praise Laura for her brilliant cooking while Natasha decides what T'Challa's prize shall be. Lightly, ever so lightly, Tony reaches out and taps T'Challa's hand with his fork. The younger man looks over and Tony opens his mouth only to realize he is a loss at what to say.

"Yes?" T'Challa prompts, amused. Tony supposes that turnabout is fair play.

"Nothing," he finally says. "Just glad you're here." T'Challa's expression wipes clean for a moment and before he can decide how he feels about all this, Tony waves his fork and turns back to his pie, faking a little shudder for effect. "Ugh. I am never being gracious in defeat again." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, the Arabic, I am aware, is super wrong. Just. Roll with me.
> 
> The language that T'Challa speaks is actually Xhosa, which I also just used google translate on.
> 
> Apple pie with cheese is a New England dish and an offense against nature.


	4. more than anything in this life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I have tried so hard to keep you safe. But I guess I don't know how." - Rhodey, Irreparable, Chapter nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know NOTHING about MIT, if you have gone there I greatly apologize.
> 
> Also, Rhodey is only a year and change older than Tony, but I posit that he might have been in MIT a bit longer since Tony apparently finished in like two years. So Rhodey goes in at sixteen and graduates at eighteen/nineteen.
> 
> This is far more of a one-shot than an add-on, but further delves into what Rhodey meant by his quote in chapter nine.

James is nearly seventeen and too young for college, but his scores are phenomenal and his mother is beyond proud. Getting away from the neighborhood kids, the ones who grew up scared of seeming too smart and expressed that with their fists, is a bonus. He likes MIT, likes being around people as smart or smarter than him, likes it enough to put up with the prissy pretentious white boys here on their daddy's bank account.

Plus, he's pretty sure he's adjusting to MIT far better than the baby-faced pretty boy about to throw himself off the diving board into Phi Beta Epsilon's empty pool. He's been watching this kid all night, watched him drink twenty year olds twice his size under the table, watched him disappear into the house and come back out with a sheen of white dust on his upper lip. Just watched. Just like everybody else.

The kid dances slowly closer to the edge, egged on by the frat boys' hooting and hollering, and James looks around to see if anybody else is going to step forward and stop him. The pool isn't very deep, but this kid could seriously hurt himself. "Hey, man," he calls, but its drowned out by the cheers.

" _Stark, Stark, Stark,_ " someone starts chanting, and the others pick up the call. James has heard of a Stark attending MIT, Howard Stark's only son, some terrifying wunderkind of a party kid who drinks shots mixed with caffeine powder before all his tests and still manages to ruin the curve for everyone else. 

Stark raises his shaking hands above his head in imitation of the world's worst ballerina and tip toes to the edge of the board and James feels his throat close up even as he takes a step forward. "Hey, wait!" he yells, and Stark seems to, just for a moment, hear his yell, jerking towards the side of the pool James is on and losing his balance in the process, tipping off and over the edge.

The crowd 'ohs' as Stark lands hard on his side in the pool, then dissolves into laughter. A few of the boys and most of the girls seemed concerned but no one is stepping forward, even after several seconds pass and Stark remains motionless.

James finally takes action, lurching forward and over the edge of the pool's shallow end to head down the slope where Stark lays. "Kid," he says, placing one hand on Stark's midsection and one on his neck, holding firm so Stark doesn't move when he wakes up. "Stark! C'mon, man, talk to me." Stark is bleeding where his head had cracked against the pool and James looks up to the people standing at the edge, far above him. They look so tall from up here. "Call an ambulance, this guy's bleeding!" 

Nobody moves and James snarls up at their curious, addled expressions. "This kid is Howard Stark's son! You really want that kind of power coming after you for killing his kid?" That gets a few of the boys moving, racing into the house for the landline.

"Oh, my God." Stark is awake, eyes unfocused and blinking unevenly. "You're s'loud."

"Don't move," James says when Stark tries to roll over. "You're hurt. You jumped into the pool."

"'m not wet."

"The _empty_ pool."

"Oooooh," Stark slurs. "Not m'finest moment, then. Howard's gon' be pissed. You taking me to th' hospital?"

"Yeah, man, your head's split wide open."

Stark sighs. "Howard's gon' be pissed. Ah well. 'S normal, s'pose. Ya got a name?"

"I'm James Rhodes. Lie still."

"Will if you lie with me."

"What?"

"C'mere," Stark insists. He reaches a hand to James', still resting on his side, and tugs. "Can't see you. C'mere. Promise, no funny bus'ness. Need to see."

James gapes at the back of his head; this fucking kid, drinking and snorting himself stupid and braining himself at the bottom of a pool and still pushing for more. But Stark keeps tugging insistently and James really wants to keep him still, so he shuffles over the kid and lays down in front of him, face to face. Stark's bleary eyes are enormous in his face, a sweeter brown than James' own, but he hasn't quite grown into his nose or mouth. "How old are you?"

"Tha's better. Still can't see." In lieu of answering, Stark frowns and brings a hand up to pat at James' face. "You feel pretty."

"Um. Thank you."

Stark nods. "Welcome. 'M fifteen. J'mes Rhodes?"

"Yeah."

"Tony Stark. M'head hurts."

"That would be from hitting the bottom of the pool."

"Howard's gon' be pissed."

"You said that. Howard's your dad?"

Stark - Tony, just snorts, which makes his whole face twists up in pain. "Hurts. Don't leave."

"I won't," James promises. 

"Don't."

"I'm right here." Tony mouths 'don't' one more time, but nothing comes out. "All you got to do is stay awake." They're holding hands and people are staring, but James doesn't particularly care, so long as Stark stays conscious.

Tony insists on James coming to the hospital with him where they find out the kid has a concussion and a fractured clavicle. Tony, more lucid now but missing some memories, whistles at his x-rays.

"Howard's gonna be pissed," he says again, and this last repetition makes something cold shiver down James' spine.

"We could make something up," he suggest. "You're always doing crazy shit in the labs, everyone knows that."

Tony laughs grimly. "Nah, man. Thanks for all you did, but save yourself while you can and leave now."

James hunches into himself, remembering watching as a totally smashed fifteen year old waltzed into alcohol poisoning and broken bones. "I didn't do much."

"Hey," Tony says sharply, hitting him on the shoulder with his uninjured arm. "You saved my life, James." He frowns for some reason, working his mouth. "James. Jim. Jimmy. Rhodes. Rho - Rhodey? Rhodey!" He hits him again. "Thank you, Rhodey."

Yeah, he's not answering to 'Rhodey,' but for now he can humor the concussed kid. "You're welcome, Tony."

(Howard _is_ pissed, and Tony is quietly checked into a rehabilitation facility for a month. When he returns to MIT, Maria Stark calls herself to ask if James will room with him. "I think," Tony's mother opines. "That all he really needs is a friend. Tony's...very lonely."

"Tony's the life of the party," James almost says, but all that comes out is, "I'd be happy to, Mrs. Stark.")

* * *

Rhodey is twenty three and wearing a Santa Hat. "No fair," Tony laughs. "It looks better on you." It's December 16th and strangely warm for New York in winter and they are playing catch with Tony's first robot, DUM-E in the living room.

"Still can't believe you lugged this all the way down from Boston," Rhodey comments as he tosses the tennis ball to DUM-E.

"Like I was gonna leave him there. Plus, he drives Howard nuts." It's good to see Tony smiling, even if it is at the expense of his father. The elder Starks have abandoned their son to head to some tropical island. Tony had almost tricked Rhodey into thinking he was staying in Boston to work on his new User Interface intelligence but Edwin Jarvis had called Rhodey from his upper New York estate and told him the truth. Tony is probably going to ice Jarvis out for a week or two for the betrayal but he isn't doing a very good job of pretending he isn't relieved to have Rhodey with him. "Mom likes him, though."

"You could probably make macaroni art and your mom would think it was amazing," Rhodey points out. Maria Stark is...effusive with her praise when it comes to Tony, probably in direct relation to how much Howard Stark withholds his.

Tony hides a shy smile with an indelicate snort. "If I'm making macaroni art, damn straight it'll be amazing. My mom's never wrong. Hear that, DUM-E? Forget what Howard says, Mom thinks you're great. That's basically the universe's seal of approval right there." DUM-E beeps happily and rolls over to his creator and lays his strut on Tony's shoulder in simulation of a hug. "God, you're needy," Tony proclaims even as he pats DUM-E's huge body. He looks at Rhodey. "I'm making him a little brother, you know?"

"No way?"

"Really. I need one with more delicate control for some of my bigger projects. The stuff I'm doing at R&D right now is fun but it's never gonna be enough to catch Dad's eye. Obie says I need to be thinking bigger. This new 'bot's gonna help with that."

Rhodey never knows what to say when they talk about Tony's future. It's hard to tell from the way Tony talks if he even wants to inherit Stark Industries. He's never seemed much interested in the weapons trade, more focused on advancing computer technology, personalizing modern day tech for the future. But he'd never leave the company. Not when it's the most convenient way to get his father to pay attention to him.

"I talked to Howard about the liaison position, by the way."

Rhodey's eyebrows shoot up. "Shit, Tones, I'm not even an NCO, your dad's never gonna consider me."

"Why not?" Tony asks, circling a finger between the two of them. "Alright, maybe you can't get the _actual_ position, but there's no reason you can't be an aide or something. You and me? We're the future. Might as well embrace it now, right?"

The future. That's where Tony belongs. Rhodey only hopes he's standing there with him when it comes. "Right," he says, letting a slow smile spread across his face. He will be there, he swears. He and Tony clink their beers and he drags his friend up to the living room where they watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas twice. Tony sings along the first time but the second he gets up and actually plays the song on the piano.

It is late, and Tony is playing a different song now, something Rhodey's heard in this house before, and neither of them have managed to get drunk, when blue and red lights flash through the window. Tony exchanges a confused look with Rhodey and begins heading towards the door, opening it up just as the doorbell rings.

Rhodey can't hear the conversation well but he sits up when Tony's voice takes on a distressed tone, about to get out of his seat when his friend yells, "I'll fucking prove it!" and slams the door. Tony tromps back into the room, his walk wavering a little and his face bone white. He sits next to Rhodey on the couch, takes one long deep breath, and grabs for the remote, clicking the TV back on.

"What was that about?" Rhodey finally works up the courage to ask, looking at Tony, so forcibly calm except for his clenched jaw and his glassy eyes. "That was the police, right? Tones? What did they want?"

"Typical cops," Tony shrugs. "Getting things wrong. They're lying. I mean, obviously. Maybe they're not even real cops."

"Not even-" Rhodey stands up and walks to the window, ignoring Tony's protests, and looks outside. "Tony, that cop car looks pretty fucking real to me. What did you do?" He turns back around and Tony is staring at him, mouth open, his huge eyes nearly glittering in the light of the Christmas tree Maria Stark had hand-decorated. Something is very wrong. "Why do you think they're lying?"

Tony blinks once, hard, and tears streak down their face. Rhodey watches with dim growing horror as his friend touches his cheek, pulls away, looks at the moisture and rubs it between his fingers. "They told me my parents are dead. Car crash," Tony says evenly, brushing his tears off against his shirt. "They're lying. Like I said."

Rhodey feels it like a physical blow, feels it more than Tony is letting himself and that makes it worse. He slowly walks, step by step, towards where his friend sits. "Why would they be lying?" he asks again.

Tony laughs and its horrible. Tony is crying and doesn't even realize it. "My dad was into some weird stuff with the government. Those guys out there might not even be cops. They could be agents or something. Don't fucking laugh at me-"

"I'm not laughing," Rhodey says quietly.

"Because my parents aren't dead. I would know." Tony's hands are shaking as he rapidly flips through channels. "If my mother were dead, I would know." He says it like he's rattling off the theory of relativity from memory, like it's something he knows in his bones. Rhodey carefully sits down beside him, scared for his friend. Tony has always been like this, he needs proof and facts and evidence and _tests,_ he needs to see, but-

-but they cannot test this. There is no do-over. This is death, and Tony can't work a solution for this. This is the null hypothesis. 

"You said you'd prove it?" he ventures, and Tony's lips curve upward in a terrible smirk.

"Told them I'd call the airport to confirm their arrival. Starks have a private jet."

"I'll go grab the phone-"

Tony's hand shoots out and grips Rhodey's arm tight. It actually hurts. "There's no need. They're not dead, okay? There's no point. They'll just tell me what I already know."

Their fingers are shaking when Rhodey removes Tony hand and holds it in his own. "So what's the harm in calling? If - when they tell you your parents have arrived, you'll know you're right."

"I _am_ right," Tony snaps at him, and Rhodey watches as the trembling moves up his arms to his shoulders and torso, and Tony rips his hand away to wipe at his face and collapse backwards like a puppet with its strings cut. "It's a waste of my time. I'm right. My mom and dad are fine. C'mon, that creepy Rudolph cartoon is on, let's just watch that. The cops will give it up soon, okay?" Rhodey doesn't move and Tony's voice wobbles. "Please."

Rhodey stands up, hates himself every step of the way to the cordless phone in Howard's office sitting there under the hopeful gaze of Captain America, hates himself even more when he presents it to Tony and his friend looks at him, betrayal shining in his eyes. "Just check for me, Tones."

"Rhodey, c'mon. You believe me, right? I'm right, I know I am, they're  _not dead-"_

"Tony." Rhodey keeps his voice firm and Tony lets out a sound caught between a snarl and a sob and takes the phone, furiously mashing at the eight before holding it up to his ear and standing, pacing.

"Hi," he says after a long pause, and listening to him it's like nothing's happened. "This is Anthony Stark. My parents were headed out today, have they already left?" Tony listens for a moment then abruptly turns his back on Rhodey, tilting his head up to the ceiling. "Ah. He did. Okay. I figured. Thanks." He hangs up the phone.

"Tony?" Rhodey says, and because he wants to believe it too, he asks, "Have they left already?"

Tony shakes his head, back and forth like he can't stop. "They said they had already been contacted by Obadiah Stane about ten minutes ago. That the Starks wouldn't be making it." His voice is barely there anymore. "Obie is listed on my parents' medical files as a contact..."

There is silence for a long moment and then Tony _screams_ , throwing the phone against the wall. Rhodey is on his feet in an instant, watching Tony knock over the TV and the coffee table, then lunging for him when he heads towards the Christmas tree, bundling him up in his arms.

"This is not _real_ ," his Tones insists through choked sobs. "I would know. They're _my parents_. I would know. This isn't happening. This _isn't real_."

Rhodey can think of nothing to say or do and uselessly just holds him to his chest. Six years ago he watched Tony fall of a diving board into solid concrete. Today he holds his friend close, but the landing is so much harder, and he feels just as useless.

(Even later they will find out that Howard was drunk when he hit the tree and Tony and Obadiah wage war to keep it hidden from the press but privately, so privately not even Jarvis sees all of it, Tony falls apart, destroyed at the thought that his father killed his mother. "They're lying," he says to Rhodey, and Rhodey is more inclined to let Tony have this one.

But one dark day in January a drunken Tony burns a picture of a young Howard Stark with his arm around Captain Steve Rogers and Mrs. Margaret Carter. "He had a drink before he left the house, you know," he tells Rhodey, and it is the last time he talks about his father for a very long time.)

* * *

Rhodey is twenty eight and lets his best friend be verbally brutalized by his new boyfriend for months before he punches Tiberius Stone out in a bar and he and Obadiah Stane make sure the bastard stays gone.  Rhodey is thirty four and watches his best friend throw Rumiko Fujikawa's engagement ring into the bay and sink into a cycle of parties and women and depression that he will not break out of for seven years.

Rhodey is fully aware that Tony Stark is a self-made mess. Tony could save himself if he ever cared to. Rhodey is aware that others think he's lowering himself, being friends with Tony, that their friendship is some kind of charity work in Rhodey's case.

But Tony lights up around Rhodey, is so grateful to Rhodey, introduces him to people as 'the man who saved my life, more than once' with a laugh and a sincere smile, and all Rhodey can see sometimes is the thousand little ways he has failed Tony, the thousand different times that Tony reached out his hand and Rhodey let him fall. Tony is his brother, the person he loves most, and what man can stand to see their brother in pain?

* * *

 Rhodey is forty-one and standing in the ruins of a convoy. He has picked through this many times in the past three months. His superiors are furious with him, whispering of sending him home, whispering of PTSD, but he can't stop. He finds something new every time. Like the camera with a photo of Tony and the young soldier that had been escorted him, the kid that had been so riddled with holes he had to be identified by his dental records. Like the black box recovered off one of the vehicles that has patches of sound. Gunfire and explosions and screaming.

One voice in particular, screaming Rhodey's name. 

Tony had depended on him. Tony had counted on Rhodey swooping in and saving him. Rhodey should have - he should have been there, he should have been at Tony's side, screw the 'Funvee.' There is no telling Lt. Col. James Rhodes that if he had been with Tony Stark he would have died as well. Rhodey knows better. Maybe he would have died, but Tony would be home right now, safe and spoiled and grieving but _alive_.

No. _Don't go there_. Tony _is_ alive, no matter what anyone else says. Occasionally Rhodey's traitorous brain will recall snippets of memories from nineteen years ago, and he chooses to ignore the flashes of Tony's utter denial of his parents' death and focuses on what it felt like to hug his best friend close. That's the first thing he'll do, he decides, then he amends it with a grin. Tony deserves a bit of teasing for all he's put Rhodey through. Then he'll hug him. He'll take him home. 

"Colonel?" One of his lieutenants is at his side. They are tired of this ceaseless, fruitless quest, Rhodey has heard them talking, but he ignores them. "The General's on the line. He says its time to pack it in. They want the copters back ASAP."

Rhodey imagines it was phrased far less politely than that. Nobody's happy with Rhodey nowadays. 'Wasting the military's time and resources.' Rhodey loves his job, loves his men, but they aren't Tony. He will choose Tony every time and he will use everything in his disposal to get to him.

But for now, he acquiesces, and they all pack into the copters, Rhodey taking the jumpseat. They are blazing over the desert when they see flames, an explosion arcing into the air. "That's him," Rhodey breathes. Only Stark would be wild enough to cause that much damage. "Search the area."

"No one could have survived th-"

"That's an order!" Rhodey snaps, and the copters turn.

He doesn't remember whatever quip he says to Tony when they find him half-dead in the desert. All he remembers is holding him close. "I'm so sorry," he whispers.

Tony's grip is so loose around him, his voice hoarse from screaming and tears. "You came for me. I knew it. Always saving the day, huh, honey-bear?"

(Later Tony will back out of his military contracts and Rhodey will feel betrayed, telling his friend to straighten himself out when Tony comes calling. Later he will find Tony dying in his lab one moment and piloting a flying suit the next. Later Tony will lose the last parent he ever had. And once, briefly, unkindly, Rhodey will wonder if it wouldn't have been better for Tony to die out in the desert after all. Rhodey will wonder if Tony Stark even can be saved.)

* * *

Rhodey is forty three, in a suit of his own that he took from his reckless, dying little brother, and targeting Iron Man against his will. Rhodey is forty four and watching a red and gold suit disappear into a wormhole. It falls, not flies, back out. Rhodey is forty five and knows Tony is suffering from PTSD but doesn't know how to get him into counseling. He watches Tony get his house blown up with Pepper inside. Rhodey is forty six, holding his injured arm close as Tony with eyes just a tinge manic describes how he accidentally built a murderous robot. He watches Tony and Pepper fall apart. He watches. Rhodey is always watching.

The only one who can save Tony is Tony. He just doesn't see why he can't seem to help.

"I don't know what I would do without you," Tony tells him when Rhodey flies in to meet him at the Tower after Tony gets back from the new Avengers compound, freshly retired. Its disturbingly quiet here now. "You still a negative on those friendship bracelets, Ghost Rider?"

"Yes, Maverick," Rhodey replies. "You'll be okay, Tones."

"Course I will," Tony says tiredly, aiming a grin over his shoulder at Rhodes. "I got you, right? We're the Bash Brothers."

Rhodey grins back, just as weary. "Always." 

* * *

Rhodey is forty seven and Tony is sleeping, just out of surgery. Just two days ago he had returned with Vision from Siberia and promptly collapsed in his lab, curled tight around Captain America's shield. Rhodey doesn't know what happened there, but it can't have been good if what's in his hands in any indication.

The fiberglass sternum has been cleaned as best as it could be, but there is still blood deep in the cracks. He's seen Tony's chest, the large arching bruise. He's gone down to the labs and fit the shield into Tony's ruined suit. He is fairly sure the next time he sees Steve Rogers he might kill him.

It's not as if he can't appreciate Steve's near pathological need to save his apparently innocent best friend. It's not as if he hasn't been in Steve's shoes a thousand times. It's not as if he doesn't feel sympathy for the man or regret for how things turned out. 

But he will choose Tony every time. Threatening him is something Rhodey isn't sure he can forgive, just as he knows Tony might never truly forgive Sam Wilson or Vision. Or James Barnes.

Rhodey sighs, turns the fiberglass over. This whole thing is a mess that never had to happen. Why didn't any of them just _talk_ more? He knows the Avengers idealize themselves as a family, but Tony is his family, and he's Tony's. They may have had their disagreements but they always came back together at the end of the day.

Well. Maybe the sun hasn't set on the Avengers yet. Tony has always been the most invested in this team, and he won't let it go without a fight. Rhodey will be by his side. The future's here now and he once made a promise to himself.

Tony comes around to find him fiddling with the fiberglass. "Throw that away, Jesus, Rhodes," he grits out.

Rhodey can't even look at him. "I have tried so hard to keep you safe," he confesses. "But I guess I don't know how."

"Rhodey, no," Tony pleads, trying to sit up. "Jim. Come on, I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you. This was bad luck. The exact right angle. Or wrong angle, I guess." He smiles grimly at his own little joke and then it falls as his eyes take in the wheelchair. "I should be the one who apologizes. I should have been faster. Shoulda never let it come to that. I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

"I didn't need to be saved," Rhodey says firmly. "Accidents happen. And don't think I didn't see those schematics on FRIDAY's servers for new legs."

Tony grins sheepishly, sleepily. The doctor comes in and explains Tony's condition and recovery, then leaves them. They enjoy the quiet for a moment before Tony speaks.

"Rhodey?" He hums his attention. "I didn't need to be saved either, you know? I made mistakes and I paid for them. Even this-" he gestures at his chest. "-was because of my own mistake. But - ugh, this is so - listen. I never needed to be saved cause I always had you, okay? You've never let me down. I know I haven't been the best friend-"

"Shut up," Rhodey says, because he might be crying and that's horrible. They're horrible. "I don't want the best friend, I want Tony Stark."

Tony waves his hands, showy and self-deprecating. "You've got him."

"Damn straight." They've got each other. That's all they need.

* * *

("I would have chosen you, too," Tony says one night, tipsy, and Rhodey knows he's talking about Steve and Barnes. That damn letter. He's simmered down from killing Steve Rogers, but he's upgraded punching him to a few rounds in the suit. "Woulda chosen Pepper. Happy. Harley. Might even have chosen Steve." Tony _did_ choose Steve. That's why it still hurts his friend, when it no longer troubles Rhodey like it did before. That's probably why Tony gave the phone number to him and Vision. Tony chose Steve and got nothing in return but a secret that was owed to him years ago. Tony will never choose Steve again. "It kinda scares me."

"Would choose you, too," Rhodey says, and Tony doesn't quite mask his surprise. "I really like world peace and all, but I like you more."

Tony laughs at that and they raise a toast to thirty years of friendship.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like it would be tough, being Tony's friend. Not because like some people would like to say that Tony is just so incredibly difficult but because Tony's life, for all his money and smarts, is kinda rough. It's hard watching your friends deal with heartache and mental illness and it's impossible to be on their side every single time. But keep in mind that this is just from Rhodey's point of view. Tony would never, ever think that Rhodey has ever failed him.
> 
> And when Tony and Rhodey say they would choose each other, understand that Tony and Rhodey are very different people from Steve and would not make the same choices. They are in that moment idealizing a world where they would make all the right choices to protect their best friend and keep the world on their side, and coming from a place where several times they haven't chosen each other. At the end of the day, Tony and Rhodey will never be put in Steve's position with Bucky and so they will never fully understand what Steve was thinking, and neither would Steve ever fully understand them.


	5. (i have the honor to be) your obedient servant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Careful how you proceed, good man.
> 
> In chapter 11 of Irreparable, Steve Rogers made a call to the phone he sent to Tony Stark. A number Tony rerouted to Rhodey and Vision back in chapter 1. In Irreparable, this phone call was referenced via Tony reading the transcript of the call. This is that transcript, by popular request.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so! Yes, Irreparable is currently being worked on. I'm terribly sorry for the delay, but it's getting there. Sloooowly. I also have to work on Only Dream Forever, heathens, and my own Drabblethon back on Tumblr. I thank you all for how patient you've been so far, and ask you to keep up the good work!

[13:28: Passive scanning complete. BANNER in Lab B. BARTON C in Danger Room. BARTON L L C N in Suite 4. GILL in 007. KHAN A in 314. KHAN K in 316. ROMANOV in Lab B. RHODES in Communal Kitchen. STARK in Lab A. Van DYNE in Danger Room. VISION on premises. No guests.] 

[13:29: Passive scanning complete.BANNER in Lab B. BARTON C in Danger Room. BARTON L L C N in Suite 4. GILL in 007. KHAN A in 314. KHAN K in 316. ROMANOV in Lab B. RHODES in Communal Kitchen. STARK in Lab A. Van DYNE in Danger Room. VISION on premises. No guests.]  

[13:30: Passive scanning complete. BANNER in Lab B. BARTON C in Danger Room. BARTON L L C N in Suite 4. GILL in 007. KHAN A in 314. KHAN K in 316. ROMANOV in Lab B. RHODES in Communal Kitchen. STARK in Lab A. Van DYNE in Danger Room. VISION on premises. No guests.]  

**Event in Communal Kitchen Logged**

 

> **RHODES receives phonecall at 13:30:15**
> 
> **RHODES** **{'holy shit'} indicates for system designated FRIDAY to begin recording {'this should be fun fry you getting this tony is going to lose his damn mind'}**
> 
> **System FRIDAY uses permission to access cellular device in use**
> 
> **Transcript of call as follows**

RHODES: I can honestly say I wasn't expecting this.

UNKNOWN: Rhodes?

 **.** **Analyzing. Voice pattern and tone recognized as system user STEVEN ROGERS**

RHODES: Hello, Captain. Long time.

ROGERS: What happened to the phone I sent?

RHODES: He destroyed it. Duh.

ROGERS: Tony did?

RHODES: He did. [pause of :05 seconds] I was under the impression this phone was meant for emergencies, Rogers. I heard about what went down in Belgium from Tony, your involvement included.

ROGERS: Natasha said she told him.

RHODES: Yeah, she's working on this whole thing of not keeping secrets, so far it's working out great. 

ROGERS: Right. I've been {pause of :03 seconds] waiting, but

RHODES: He's not going to call, Captain. 

ROGERS: I know. I know that now. It wasn't an obligation, Rhodes, it was just a way to communicate if we needed each other. And I think that time has come. If Tony isn't going to call

RHODES: Rogers.

ROGERS: I'm not [voice .03 decibel increase] it's not an obligation, like I said. I'm not blaming him. But I need him to know what's happening. I need him to work with me here, to do what's best.

RHODES: FRIDAY is recording the call, Cap. Lay it out. We'll pass the message on.

ROGERS: [pause of :07 seconds] The bombing in Belgium was caused by a remote detonator set off by an individual known as Madame Hydra. She did this during a confrontation with me and my team. We've been chasing after her for weeks, set out on missions giving by Fury.

RHODES: Fury. Damn. Man really is everywhere, isn't he?

ROGERS: A finger in every pie. The thing is, I know the Avengers have been working with the ATCU. Fury claimed that they were under their own orders, but I seriously doubt that. Fury is still directing that ship, one way or another, and us as well.

RHODES: You're worried we're running parallel? 

ROGERS: Fury made it clear to me that none of the Avengers were to be trusted anymore. He's using us. Sending my team here and your team there, feeding us hints and clues to get us to move in certain ways when only he can see the full board. He admitted to my face he was using the Avengers as bait for HYDRA so that my team can slip in under radar to take them apart.

RHODES: It might not be a bad plan.

ROGERS: It might not, if it were ours. If we saw what he saw.

RHODES: What are you saying, Rogers? You want in? It's a little too late for that. 

ROGERS: I want us to work together.

[pause of :15 seconds]

RHODES: And how do you think we're going to swing that, Captain? 

ROGERS: The same way we have everything else. Putting aside our differences for the greater good. It's what got the Avengers to work as a team the first time; I don't see why it can't happen again.

RHODES: Because Tony doesn't make the same mistakes twice. [pause of :05 seconds] I'm not saying that the Avengers were a mistake, I'm just saying that

ROGERS: I know.

RHODES: Do you?

ROGERS: I do. Believe it or not, I do know Tony. And I know that he's seeing the same signs I am here. For us to act, even if it's separately, we need to be on the same page. We don't need to be the Avengers again. Not - not yet. But we do need to be a team on this.

RHODES: We never wanted anything else. 

ROGERS: You know, Nat told me before Leipzig that staying together was more important than how we stayed together. But I don't - I can't think like that. The means are always as important as the ends. And I don't regret saving Bucky. I'd do it again. But I do regret some of the things I had to do along the way.

RHODES: Why are you telling me this, Rogers?

ROGERS: Because Tony's going to read it. He'll know what I mean. So, Tony: I told you to call if you needed me. This is me cashing in on the return favor in advance. Fury's keeping secrets, and innocent people are hurt. You know me, I can't sit idly by and watch that happen. I'll come to you, consequences be damned if I have to, but I'll do whatever it takes to take HYDRA down for good and stop this before anybody else gets hurt.

RHODES: All that's waiting for you if you come back now is a holding cell. Germany's still pissed that Tony somehow got Barton off so light. They're willing to throw the book at you and Wilson. Tony's working on that, trying to argue for a blanket sentence - Lord knows what that could do for Lang, and he needs all the help he can get - but there are no guarantees anymore, Steve.

ROGERS: I don't care about that. I've been here before, and I told Fury exactly where he could shove his secrets. Now he thinks he's got me against a wall, Colonel. That I've got only him to rely on. He's moving us like chess pieces. Doesn't that bother you?

RHODES: I can't say I'd say no to any additional intel you could provide.

ROGERS: Likewise. And right now, that's all I'm asking. We need all the information, or Madame Hydra will be the least of our problems. 

RHODES: [pause of :05 seconds] Well I can't say your inspiring speeches have lost their punch. You've got my vote, if nothing else.

ROGERS: Thank you, Jim.

RHODES: Steve? It will mean a lot that you called at all. He won't say no. 

ROGERS: I'm counting on it.

**Call terminated**

 

> **RHODES {'well i be damned what do you think fry should we trust him'} instructs system designated FRIDAY to send transcript to admin TONY STARK's private server**
> 
> **[SYSTEM NOTE: SEARCH 'TRUST'**
> 
> **FLAGGED AS 'IMPORTANT':**
> 
> **BOOKER T WASHINGTON: FEW THINGS CAN HELP AN INDIVIDUAL MORE THAN TO PLACE RESPONSIBILITY ON HIM, AND TO LET HIM KNOW THAT YOU TRUST HIM.**
> 
> **FRANK CRANE: YOU MAY BE DECEIVED IF YOU TRUST TOO MUCH, BUT YOU WILL LIVE IN TORMENT IF YOU DON'T TRUST ENOUGH.**
> 
> **RALPH WALDO EMERSON: TRUST ME AND THEY WILL BE TRUE TO YOU; TREAT THEM GREATLY AND THEY WILL SHOW THEMSELVES GREAT.]**
> 
> **Transcript transmitted**

**Passive scanning cancelled in Lab A**

[13:35: Passive scanning complete. BANNER in Lab B. BARTON C in Danger Room. BARTON L L C N in Suite 4. GILL in 007. KHAN A in 314. KHAN K in 316. ROMANOV in Lab B. RHODES in Communal Kitchen. Van DYNE in Danger Room. VISION on premises. No guests.]

 

> **Transcript marked as read by admin TONY STARK**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For clarification: when Steve goes into that spiel about how the means are as important as the ends, and then says that he regrets some of the things he had to do to get Bucky safe, even if he doesn't regret the end result, and says that Tony will understand, he means that he's letting go of the anger and confusion he felt at Tony supporting the Accords because he can understand now what Tony was trying to do, even if he considers the methods distasteful. Whether you think Steve has a right to this anger or not is your opinion, but that is what he meant.


End file.
